


Let Me In

by mathprincess



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Complete, F/M, Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-08
Updated: 2015-01-08
Packaged: 2018-03-06 18:14:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3143852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mathprincess/pseuds/mathprincess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A late night encounter in the Foundry leads to things Oliver never thought possible. If I had to pick a setting, it would be mid-Season 2 (since that's where I am in watching the show), after the trip to Russia and Oliver has explained to Felicity that he can't be with someone he cares about. Canon-ish, a little OOC. Olicity all the way. Rated M for chapter 2.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey all, new to Arrow. The hubs and I started watching over the holidays and now I'm... more than a little obsessed :-) Not beta'd, so feel free to let me know if there are any errors.
> 
> I don't own Arrow. Trying to get my husband to dress as him for Halloween, though ;-)

Oliver walks back into the Foundry, sweaty and more than a little sore from his fight with the group of gangbangers he - literally - roped up for the SCPD. Dig had been doing recon on what Felicity suspected was the headquarters of this relatively new group of thugs that had been dealing in drugs and weapons in The Glades. He had finished earlier and debriefed Felicity, who Oliver can now see, sitting at her bay of computers and talking to herself.

Out of habit more than anything, Oliver had been moving on silent feet as he descended the stairs, so when Felicity knocked a pen off her desk, he stopped to appreciate the view when she got out of her chair and bent over to pick it up. That woman in a tight pencil skirt should really be illegal.

“Were you staring at my ass?”

Apparently, his admiration had turned into distraction that had persisted for a second too long. He blamed it on being tired. Yeah, it’s because he was tired. It had nothing to do with the fact that he’d been finding it harder and harder to resist the witty, funny, and sweet blonde. Nothing.

Oliver cleared his throat and let his eyes drift slowly up Felicity’s body. Which, really, was a bad idea in leather pants. Once he met her accusing stare - taking note of the smirk on her lips - he said, serious as could be, “No,” as he stepped off the last stair and began walking toward her.

“Yes you were,” she protested, that smirk still playing around her mouth, “I saw you in the reflection of the arrow case. You were totally looking at my ass. Not that I mind, really. I mean, I mind, because it’s nice to be appreciated, but I don’t mind because you’re welcome to look at whatever you want on me… 3, 2, 1…” Felicity flushes red as she turns and plops herself back down in her chair, pretending to be busy, but he can see that she’s staring at him in the computer screen.

Why is she so hard to resist? Oliver feels a grin sneak onto his face that he can’t seem to will away as he stops beside her and begins to take off his gloves after setting his quiver and bow down on the adjacent table. “It’s a nice ass,” he hears himself say. Apparently his filters are down. Oops. Before she can respond, he continues. “Why don’t you go on home, Felicity. We can finish up our plan of attack on the gang headquarters tomorrow. You’ve been staying too late up here at night.”

“I don’t mind staying up all night with you. For you. I mean…”

Oliver rests a hand on her shoulder and squeezes slightly, pretending not to notice how she tenses and then shivers at his touch. “Go home, Felicity.” So I can continue pretending I don’t want you to come home with me, he adds in his head.

She turns and looks up at him then, that dark lipstick on her perfect mouth making his thoughts turn south again as she smiles. “You said I had a nice ass.”

Purposefully, Oliver turns and takes off his hood and leather jacket, laying them in the case, then pulls his DriFit shirt off over his head, knowing that she’s watching him. He turns back to face her and doesn’t flex at all on purpose when he sees her eyes are glued to his chest. It was totally on accident. “So I did.”

Felicity meets his eyes, and Oliver feels like what is surely in his is reflected in hers. Her pupils are slightly dilated, making her irises appear darker. He quirks a brow, challenging her to go on, feeling his upper lip pull up in a cocky smirk. If only she knew how much she affected him.

“Thank you,” she says, her voice a little breathless, before she recovers. “You too. I mean, your ass is nice too.” Her eyes close, a slight grimace on her face. Then, under her breath she adds, “Your everything is nice,” as she spins back to face her computer.

Oliver almost snorts. Sometimes she forgets he’s trained himself to have very acute hearing. He walks back over to her, trailing a finger across the sliver of skin bare around her neck at the top of her blouse, before leaning over and whispering in her ear, “Thank you for noticing.” 

It’s so tempting to just flick out his tongue and tease her a bit, but he doesn’t. The fact that she leans into him slightly doesn’t help at all. He allows himself just a second to get lost in the fantasy of what would happen if he stopped resisting, which is apparently long enough for Felicity to turn her head and push her lips onto his.

“Oliver,” she whispers as she pulls away, her mouth only connected to him for a moment. Too brief a moment. Long enough for him to discover she tasted sweet, but not long enough to figure out why. “Please don’t ask me to go home again.”

“Felicity,” he whispers back, closing his eyes, wanting to savor how near she is because he knows he can never, will never, could never deserve what she’s trying to offer. “Felicity,” he repeats, trying to get his mouth to say what his brain knows he needs to, “I… I can’t…”

“Be with someone you care about?” she finishes, and Oliver opens his eyes to stare into hers for a moment before nodding. Her lips twist in a scowl and her brows furrow in the middle. “I think you just say that because you’re too scared to risk getting hurt again.”

He scoffs and stands back up. “If I were to be with someone I care about,” he begins, looking pointedly at her, “They would be in constant danger. Danger, Felicity, that I could not always protect them from.”

“What if I think it’s worth it?!” she exclaims, before adding, all in a rush, “They. What if they think it’s worth it?”

Oliver closes his eyes, feeling the guilt of all the blood on his hands rush over him. “I am not worth it.”

Felicity stands up in a hurry, her chair rolling back with the force of her motion, before she moves to stand right in front of him, close enough to poke him in the chest with her forefinger and for him to see the fire in her eyes. “That is not for you to decide, Oliver Queen.”

He manages to keep a straight face, even though he wants to laugh at the irony of her trying to intimidate him. The last person that tried didn’t much like the consequences. “Felicity,” he says quietly, forcing himself to remain separated from her by the mere inches between them, instead of grab her hips and pull her into him like he really wanted. “When I became Arrow…”

“Let me in,” she interrupts, speaking just as quietly, her hands back down at her sides. “I know every Oliver. The playboy Oliver and the CEO Oliver and the Arrow Oliver. You’ve nothing to hide from me.”

Oliver squeezes his eyes shut again, this time to stop the prick of tears he feels begin suddenly under his eyelids. “Felicity, I can’t.”

“Can’t? Not don’t want to?” she challenges, threads of iron reforming in her voice.

He meets her eyes, then, hoping she can see his desire in his. “Never don’t want to. Not with you.” He sways forward involuntarily, feeling a nearly magnetic pull from her. “The fact that I am so tempted,” he whispers, hardly trusting his voice, “Means it’s even more important for me to resist.”

She takes a tiny step forward, just enough to where he can feel her body heat radiating outward into his bare chest, but not close enough to touching. “Stop resisting just for the sake of it, Oliver. I am not afraid.”

“I am,” he confesses, the tension between them so thick he can practically see it. For a brief moment, he’s glad his leather pants are so restrictive. “I am afraid.” He takes a deep breath before continuing. “I would never forgive myself if something happens to you because of me. You deserve so much better - so much more.”

“I deserve what my heart wants,” she insists, her eyes flashing again. “Let me in,” she repeats. “I’m a big girl, Oliver. And I’m smart enough to know what I’m asking.” When he doesn’t say anything for several heartbeats, she says, “Fine. If you won’t let me in forever, let me be the next ‘one night.’ ”

Against his better judgment, Oliver reaches out a hand and runs it down her arm to take her hand, squeezing slightly. “I could never just have one night with you, Felicity. I want them all.”

Her eyes widen, and she uses their connected hands to pull him into her. She gasps as she feels the result of their nearness through his pants against her stomach. “Take them, then. I want you to have them.”

Oliver shakes his head, almost as if to clear it. “This is stupid,” he says, his arms moving up to pull her closer. “But if I’m honest, I was going to give in sooner or later.” He leans down to kiss her neck, and she tilts her head, giving her full access. “You are irresistable, woman,” he whispers in her ear.

“Pheromones,” she replies, making him laugh before he kisses her - honest-to-God kisses her - which makes her toes curl and her knees want to melt. His arms are locked around her waist, pulling their hips together so she winds hers up around his neck, her fingers teasing the short hair on the back of his head as she deepens the kiss, and hopes it never ends.

“Felicity,” he says huskily, his voice dark in ways that make her squeeze her thighs together, “Please go home.”

She meets his eyes, which look stormier than usual. “Only if you’ll come with me,” she replies, her voice nearly unrecognizable. 

He steps back, grabbing his t-shirt from the case and smoothly sliding it back on over his head. If she happens to watch his muscles ripple in appreciation, well, who can blame her? She is puzzled, at least until Oliver grabs her hand and begins pulling her back toward the stairs to the back entrance.

“You’re coming with me?” she asks, almost nervously as they spill out into the alley where her car and his bike are parked.

He turns to her as they near his bike. “How could I continue to resist those pheromones?” he teases, a grin playing on his mouth - a real one, one that is reflected in his eyes - as he throws a leg over to get on. “Meet you there.”

Felicity nods, a smile breaking out on her face. Her body is practically vibrating in anticipation. She has no idea how she’s going to manage to focus on the road. “Felicity?” he calls after her, and she turns back.

“Yes?”

“I should warn you,” he says before starting the bike. “I’m not sure I’ve got it in me to be gentle tonight.”

Parts of her body hum in response and she grins at him. “Me either,” she retorts and feels a - perhaps unhealthy - deep satisfaction when she sees the resulting look on his face before she spins and walks back to her car without looking back.

Before she can get the damn key in the ignition, she hears the bike back out of the alley and speed away. Finally she gets the car on and finds the look in her eyes interestingly different as she glances in the rearview mirror.

Dollars to donuts, he’s waiting in her bedroom when she gets there. She can’t wait.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still don't own it. My husband claims that he's gonna need to do a lot of sit-ups to look like Arrow for Halloween. I'll probably need to do a few, too, if I want to even dream of dressing as Felicity. Meh, scratch that - maybe we'll go as Michelin men.

Sure enough, when Felicity pulls into the driveway of her tiny house, the bike is parked there, but the rider is nowhere to be seen. Every muscle in her body thrums in anticipation as she gets out of the car and walks to the front door, hearing the “beep” when she locks the car doors from the porch. The door of her house is still locked, so she punches in the code to the keyless entry pad and opens it quietly.

As she closes - and relocks - it behind her, she calls out, “Oliver?”

When there is no response, she continues walking through the dark toward her bedroom, depositing her shoes and purse in their normal spots. Her bedroom is dark, but the curtain is fluttering in the slight breeze of the open window - one that hadn’t been open when she left this morning. Her heart starts pounding and the pulsing in areas below her belt is suddenly nearly painful - she isn’t entirely sure she won’t give herself an orgasm just walking across the room.

She moves to close the window, whispering, “Oliver?” again as she did. Still no answer. Once she had secured the window and rearranged the curtains, she turns back to face her room, intent upon finding wherever he was hiding.

She didn’t have to look long. As she turned back, suddenly he was there, his body pressed to hers with delicious force. His arms band around her, one hand pulling the tie out of her ponytail and then tangling into her loose locks, the other unrelenting around her waist. His lips press to hers, the slight growth of hair on his chin scraping against hers in a welcome way. She opens her mouth under his, whimpering slightly as his tongue slides in to tangle with hers, mimicking motions she hopes will be repeated in other places tonight.

Felicity manages to get her hands between them to work on the fly of his pants. After the button has sprung free and the zipper is down, she slides her hands into the waistband, encouraging the pants to slide down over his hips and legs, pulling his underwear with them. Oliver groans into her mouth as she takes his cock into her hands, pumping slightly. 

He pulls away just enough to yank his shirt over his head, allowing her a glance down to what she’s working with. “Whoa,” she says involuntarily. She’d caught glimpses, of course, when he changed in the Foundry out of his leather pants, but that had not been enough to totally prepare her for the real thing.

Oliver smirks, enough light coming through the windows that she can see his brows waggle. “What every man wants to hear,” he teases, as he pulls her back to him.

Felicity chuckles, then retorts, “I don’t know why. You know you’re the hottest guy on the planet. In Starling City. To me. Anyway…” she trails off.

“The hottest guy to you?” Oliver says in a cocky voice between kisses and nips to her neck as he works the zipper on the back of her skirt. Felicity had been wrong. She hadn’t known all the iterations of Oliver, because she had not known this version - playful, flirtatious and looking at her like she was the only woman on Earth. She likes this version, too.

“Oh get off it,” she says, swatting his shoulder playfully. “You know you’re hot.” Her voice breaks at the end, as he pushes her skirt and panties down, following them to the ground so he lands on his knees in front of her.

He smirks again as he leans forward, pressing open-mouthed kisses to her thighs and lower belly before straying oh-so-close to the parts of her that have been wanting his attention all night. She pulls her blouse off over her head, unlatching her bra and flinging them both across the room. He looks up at her, almost reverently, as he slides a finger between her legs. “You’re wet for me, Felicity,” he practically growls.

She whimpers again as he removes his finger without giving her what she wants at all, and not trusting herself to reply to his remark. Oliver stands up slowly, taking his time with more kissing and licking and teasing up her body, causing her to outright moan when his mouth meets her breasts. He knows exactly what he is doing, playing her body like an instrument.

A few moments later, his mouth meets hers again and he begins backing her toward the bed. He lays her down, and stands back, admiring for the briefest second. “You are beautiful,” he says, before kneeling on the bed in front of her. She almost sits up to pull him onto her, but then his tongue and mouth and fingers begin doing things of indescribable pleasure between her legs, and it is all she can do to keep from wrapping her legs around his head to keep him there.

She looks down across her body at him and sees that he is looking up at her. Their eyes meet in so erotic a moment it sends Felicity straight to the stars. “Oliver!” she cries as she climaxes, her fingers finding purchase in his hair. He crawls up beside her then, his fingers never leaving their work, keeping her orgasm trailing in little aftershocks.

He kisses her mouth, hard, his stubble leaving scrapes. She opens to him, tasting herself on his lips, wanting to tangle her tongue with his. As his hand sends her shooting toward another climax, she pulls away. “Please, Oliver,” she whispers, using her hands on his shoulders to pull him toward her. “I need you. I need you inside me.”

“Do you have a condom?” he whispers back.

Shit. Why hadn’t she thought of protection before? She obviously wasn’t thinking straight. “No, but I’m clean and on birth control,” she answers quickly. Felicity can see the uncertainty on Oliver’s face, and adds, “All my nights, remember? They’re yours.”

He meets her eyes as his fingers find a certain spot they’ve been searching for, making her moan again. He leans close to her. “Felicity,” he says darkly into her ear as she comes again, “I am not going to be gentle.”

“Oh!” she cries, her eyes watering at the sensations happening much further south, her muscles clenching again at his tone of voice and those words. “Good!” she manages to say, biting her bottom lip.

Oliver removes his hand as he centers himself over Felicity, grinning as her hips buck toward him. He leans down over her, bracing himself on his forearms, ignoring the strain of the muscles in his back that are sore from his earlier fight. “Say it, Felicity. Tell me what you want,” he taunts, pressing forward just far enough that he can feel her heat on his cock.

She grasps his shoulders, her nails biting in the best way as she looks up at him and her eyes flash. “Fuck me, Oliver.”

In a flash he has thrust forward into her, setting a punishing pace that they’re obviously both feeling. Felicity’s legs wrap around his waist, her hips pumping in a counter-rhythm to his. He’s not going to last long, she feels too good and he’s wanted this for too long. “Fuck, Felicity!” he spats, focusing all of his power of self-control into not coming just yet.

“Oliver!” she cries again, her head thrown back in a most beautiful display of passion. Her nails dig into his shoulders, and he is going to savor the marks they are leaving. He can feel the tension mounting in her again, her motions becoming more erratic until finally, she comes apart under him - all sweet moaning and clenched muscles - pulling him with her.

He collapses in a heap onto her, his head on her breasts, their labored breathing now the only sound in the room. He shifts as if to move away, and her arms tighten again, holding him just where he’s fallen. “I’m too heavy,” he protests. “Don’t want to hurt you.”

“Let me hold you,” she replies gently, stroking the back of his head. So he lets her. And it is in these quiet moments that he feels the final brick in the wall he’d built around his heart fall away. That he realizes she was it for him all along, perhaps since that bullet-ridden laptop and his first lame cover.

A bit later, he does move to lie beside her, pulling her to his chest and holding onto her like a life preserver as he kisses her hair. “Please don’t leave,” she whispers, a little waver in her voice.

“Where would I go, Felicity?” he replies, his nose tucked into her hair. “I owe you all my nights.”

She sighs contentedly and he hears the smile in her voice as she retorts, “That’s a big debt, Queen, and I charge interest.”

He squeezes to his chest again, liking the feel of her in his arms. “Put it on my tab.”

She turns, just enough to look him in the eye. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For taking this risk. I know it was hard for you and I want you to know that I appreciate what it took for you to let me in.”

Oliver kisses her softly as she rolls to face him and pushes one of her legs between his, tangling them together. “Oh, Felicity,” he says. “It was always you for me. I’ve known it for a while.”

She grins. “I love you, too.”

He grins back, feeling his happiness descend into and begin to illuminate dark places inside him he thought would never see light again. “Since we’re being so serious, Felicity, there’s something I need to tell you. A secret that I won’t keep between us if we’re going to be together.”

Oliver can practically see the gears click into action and begin whirring in her head as she meets his eyes. “What is it, Oliver?” she asks, squeezing his bicep with the hand that is resting there. “You can tell me anything.”

“Well,” he begins, looking seriously into her eyes, “I’m not quite sure how to say it.”

“Just say it,” she encourages. “I can take it.”

He takes a steadying breath and schools his face into order before continuing. “Felicity, I’m the Arrow.”

She bursts into laughter, and so does he. It feels good. 

After a few minutes of uncontrollable laughter, the mood shifts again as she kisses him. He rolls onto his back, helping her straddle his waist and enjoying the way she moves as she stretches to put her glasses on her bedside table. 

They spend most of the rest of the night exploring and learning one anothers’ bodies, both marveling at the new-found feelings between them. Felicity never thought he’d give her a chance - Oliver never knew how giving someone his heart could make him feel stronger. In the early morning hours as he watched her sleep, he kissed her temple. “I couldn’t let you in, Felicity,” he whispers. “You were already there.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it!


End file.
